“He came to my kitchen. He said he had a proposition for me,” Fleur whispered, angry for not having better control of herself. “He would not hear me. I told him to leave me alone,” she barely noticed Dorian shift slightly, his arms surrounding her from behind and holding her close, one large palm on each shoulder.
“I’ll have your jobs!” He growled, glaring from Mac to the approaching Cade.
Mac arched a brow at Cade. “He’ll have our jobs.”
“That’ll be an interesting chat with Logan,” Cade commented, humor absent from his tone.
“Release me this instant,” Benton Sr. twisted to the side but wasn’t set free.
“We’ve already sent video footage of all the encounters to our attorney, Mr. Benton. I suggest you prepare to be sued for sexual harassment for your son’s behavior, and intimidation and whatever else our attorney can come up with against you,” Cade met his anger with a cold fury. “Management reserves the right. And we’ve decided we don’t want someone as a guest who believes anyone is for sale.” He caught the eyes of the guards and let them escort the older man out of the lobby.
“I have two guards, armed with recorders, escorting the son to his room to pack his things,” Cassidy came up from the side, her head shaking. “I can’t believe they travel in pairs. What the hell century are they living in?”
“Really good question,” Mac said with a sigh, his palm out to link fingers with his wife. He looked over at Fleur. “It isn’t your fault. I’m pretty sure the bottom line can afford the loss of clientele like the Benton’s.” He was doing okay until he saw the moisture filling the wide, dark eyes. He glanced frantically at Cassidy and Abby.
“I am sorry…I am so very sorry,” Fleur whispered.
“Excuse us, guys,” Cassidy and Abby flanked Fleur, taking her off to the restroom without looking back.
“We can’t ban him from the tournament,” Cade looked from one man to the other after they’d found a large empty table. “But Cassidy is going to have extra guards escorting them to and from the ante room. I’ve had the attorney get a restraining order based on the footage from the video we have over the last few days, and todays confrontation,” Cade leaned back in the chair, tipping a frosty bottle of ale up and taking a long drink.
“Cassidy and Abby did some back checking the last couple hours,” Mac began carefully. “Evidently the Benton’s have a history of this kind of behavior, including paying off the women involved, lawsuits dropped,” Mac shook his head with a sigh. “You wonder why the kid is like that and then you run into the parent who raised him.”
“You’re not talking,” Cade commented, his head tipped slightly to the side at Dorian’s silence.
“Nothing I can say right now would be tolerated in polite society,” he said carefully, his jaw tense and teeth clenched. “I was worried about her taking the shuttle and she’s not even safe in her own damn kitchen.”
“I can’t…” Cade exhaled slowly. “I know Abby deals with this every day. I know given the number of employees we have, the percentages of this kind of behavior is below the national averages and I also know that doesn’t mean a thing when it happens in your life.”
“I’m not blaming anyone but Benton, Cade,” Dorian forced his voice low. “I don’t know how to protect her from that guy.”
“It has to be a group effort,” Mac said firmly. “One of our saving graces is the cameras we have everywhere. When we spoke to the attorney and she saw and heard the footage, she almost burst out laughing when Cade asked about a lawsuit. Regardless of his status, employee or guest, there are still laws against the behavior he was forcing on Fleur. Cassidy is working on getting information from some of the previous hotels they’ve stayed at, but his money bought a lot of silence.”
Cassidy approached the table, sinking next to Mac and letting her head fall back.
“She’ll be out in a few,” she lifted Mac’s soda and took a long drink. “Blech…”
“You know what I drink, goof,” he teased, his palm up and ordering her a drink of her own.
“Carbonated prune juice,” Cassidy shuddered dramatically.
“How is she, Cassidy?” Dorian asked quietly.
“Angry…worried…convinced it’ll hurt the resort and it’s her fault. That’s how these…” She bit her tongue and closed her eyes tightly. “The guilt trips they lay inside your head…no matter how logical and rational you are, it still gets to you.”
Fleur was too aware of the sudden silence when she approached, blinking rapidly.
“I want to thank you all…” she stopped when Cassidy held up one finger warningly.
“No more tears. It makes the guys nervous and then we’re stuck dealing with them,” she rolled her eyes dramatically.
“I am sorry,” Fleur sat in the chair next to Dorian and nodded slowly.
“There is nothing to apologize for, Fleur,” Cade said firmly. “Charity was working with a writer for the Times and there’s an article going out tomorrow in print and on their website. Its topic deals with sexual harassment, whether it’s in the workplace or the cause of guests visiting an establishment. She even has a psychologist friend of hers weighing in with opinions and insight.”
Abby leaned into his arm and picked up the explanation. “We geared the article specifically with the resort because of the incidents we’ve dealt with since opening. Since before we opened, actually. Having one of the owner’s wives stalked by a politician,” Abby shook her head. “I’m hoping it will also serve as a warning that we take that kind of behavior very seriously and will not tolerate it, at any level in the organization.”
“It is not something that seems to go away,” Fleur said quietly.
“No, it doesn’t,” Cassidy agreed softly. “And there isn’t a way to pinpoint who is going to be selected. There’s no rhyme or reason to their behavior, Fleur. It could easily have been one of our registration desk clerks, a maid or one of us.”
“Which is why she goes around armed,” Mac teased with a kiss to her forehead.
“Yeah…Charity is dreading the day she has to write a press release because I shot someone,” Cassidy rolled her eyes, watching a young woman come to their table.
“Excuse me,” she looked toward Fleur. “We need your help for a few minutes with the menu. Mia said to speak with you about it for the week.”
Fleur was up and walking with her into the back room.
“I didn’t want to say anything, but we’ve also sent a strong letter to the tournament people,” Cade said quietly, his gaze meeting Dorian’s. “In all likelihood, Benton will be tossed from the tournament,” he exhaled slowly. “The problem with that step is it’ll either go one way or the other.”
“He’ll move onto another venue,” Dorian said carefully. “Or he’ll come at her all the stronger.” He pulled in a long, long breath.
“I’m sorry, Dorian,” Abby said regretfully. “We didn’t know how else to handle it. But the tournament had to be made aware of the problem with one of the people they invited to attend and were, for all intents and purposes, sponsoring. If they ban him from this one, he’ll also be banned from future ones. At least, that’s what the woman I spoke with told me would happen. The proof we provided because of the cameras throughout the resort weren’t something that could be argued with, especially when I pointed out the fallout if I sent everything to the media,” she sighed and stood up. “We’re going home. If you need anything, though, or…”
“If either of them contact her, I want to know immediately,” Cassidy told him flatly. “Catherine’s already been talking to the local police and he’ll be picked up immediately if he violates the restraining order.”
“Take care of her,” Cade said with a nod to his friends before striding out with Abby and the other couple.
Dorian leaned back in the comfortable chair, his head back and eyes closed.
“With Cassidy and her people watching things, Dorian, she should be safe while she’s working,” Lacie
said softly, her palm on his arm. “I don’t know how to help.”
“I’ve got a week before I start working,” he said after a quiet minute, his hand out and grasping hers warmly. “You’re a good friend, thanks for that. I’ve got paperwork on site here most of tomorrow.”
“She just keeps asking me why,” Lacie said with a long drink of the wine she held. “You have a title of entitlement placed on people about things, this really isn’t different, only it involves an obsession with a person.”
“I’m a guy and I don’t get their behavior, so I don’t even know how to explain it to anyone else, and that’s the hardest thing because you can’t predict how they’re going to react,” he clapped Mason on the shoulder. “I’ll be in touch. I’m going to track her down and see…” He stopped when he saw her coming from the employee only section. “All done?”
“All done. One of the ingredients had not yet arrived for a recipe so we were searching the internet for a possible substitute,” Fleur looked from one to the other. “Thank you for being here,” she hugged Lacie and then Mason. “I am going home now and will not think about anything until morning. Good night.”
Dorian looked from one to the other and shrugged. “I’ll be in touch, Mason. Good night.” He had to take a couple large steps to catch her and trap her palm in his, slowing her as they moved into the expansive foyer of the resort. “Fleur…” He stopped when she smiled up at him and wiggled her fingers free.
“A moment. Wait here,” she instructed and jogged lightly through people to the front desk, accepting a large WindSwept Narrows embossed carry-out bag, speaking quickly to the receptionist.
“What’s that?” Dorian looked from the large bag to her face, relieved to see a little color back in her cheeks.
“Dinner. You may carry it,” she informed him, offering the handles and slapping lightly on his hand when he tried peering inside. “No peeking, eh? It is a surprise.”
“A surprise, huh?” Dorian’s chuckle began softly but came to an abrupt stop when the smile vanished and her body stopped moving forward. His free hand was up immediately to take her hand and put himself in front of her. “Look at me, Fleur. He is responsible for this. Not you.”
“I know,” she whispered, closing her eyes and blocking the sight of the angry man being led out of the resort by two security guards. For an instant, he had locked eyes with her, the cold fury shooting straight into her. “I know, Dorian. Please. Can we go home?”
“Yes, we can,” he answered without thinking, keeping a firm hold of her fingers and leading her off to the side where he’d left the car parked. “So tell me about your day. What time does it begin in the morning?”
“My clock is set for six and I leave at six-thirty with Faith, usually. We run after work about four-thirty and then I come home with her,” Fleur kept moving, sliding into the SUV and letting her head fall to the headrest behind her. “We run three days a week.” She accepted the large bag on her lap. “Thank you.”
“Have you always spoken such good English?” Dorian had been frantically searching his mind, wanting her away from the two men that had accosted her in the resort. He buckled himself in, watching her. One hand held the bag, the other had long, delicate looking fingers tracing the letters on the surface.
“Yes. Grandmother insisted.”
“Your parents?” He asked curiously. He couldn’t recall her mentioning them much.
“Father is curator in a large museum in Paris and Mother runs a very popular fashion magazine,” Fleur stared straight ahead, watching the rain dance across the windshield as he eased them into traffic. “They have very active careers,” she said with a casual verbal shrug of acceptance. “I grew up with Mia and my grandparents. We would attend many formal events in Paris, but we enjoyed the countryside much more.” She pulled in a long breath, her fingers opening the window at her side just a little. “They are very angry. The men at the resort.”
He knew she wasn’t speaking about her parents. “Yeah…I suppose they are.”
Fleur slid to the ground outside the condo and pulled her keys from the pocket of her light jacket. She had the dinner laid out on the table a few minutes later but knew her stomach simply wasn’t interested. She found the little drawer on her desk and brought a spare key to the table, placing it in his palm with a smile before sinking to share dinner with him.
Dorian wasn’t sure how he managed to get her to eat even the small amount she put on her plate. Somehow he managed to keep her talking about the resort and choosing recipes as well as when she ran with her friends after hours.
“There is a workout room here,” Fleur lifted a slice of chicken with her fingers and absently ate as she talked near the end of the meal. He seemed to enjoy the vegetables and sweet sauce with chicken. “I am not sure it has been completed, but we can look if you like. Dominic owns the building, he and Faith live on the top right side. He is not so interested in massive profit and decided to turn the unit opposite us into a social area,” she explained, blinking and glancing at the clock. She was angry that she’d allowed those men to occupy her mind so much that she lost time. She sighed and met his gaze, the concern in them bringing forth a little smile. “I am sorry. I’ve not been very good company this evening, Dorian.”
“You’re always delightful company, Fleur. You’ve simply been a little less animated than usual,” he corrected gently, his grin crooked. “And you fed me. A man can’t ask for a lot more than that.”
Fleur leaned her elbows on the table and settled her chin into her palms, watching him finish his dinner.
“You are very good with words, Dorian,” she held up a finger. “Do not nag me about the food. I am lucky I ate what I did.”
He sighed and sat back, blue eyes caught watching her begin to clean up after their dinner. “Do you have anything to take, Fleur? Medicine?”
“I have taken it. Frannie takes care of me,” she said with a little sigh. “Nerves, she says.”
Dorian carried things into the kitchen and helped her finish cleaning up before taking her palm and tugging her to sit before the TV, the control in his fingers and running through the menus.
“Time for something amusing and vastly distracting,” he informed her, winking at the look she gave him. But two hours later, he’d managed to distract her with the movie first, followed by a long slow seductive kiss that carried them past another hour before sleep claimed them.
Chapter Eight
Fleur left Dorian laughing by the time she finally ran out the door, hopping on one foot to secure the small heels she wore. A backpack slung on one shoulder, piece of toast dangling and half eaten and fingers raised in a brief wave before the door closed and she raced to the waiting SUV.
Jamaica week made it very easy to not think of anything but food, missing employees and crazy demands from guests. Fleur was positive by the end of her shift, she’d kill someone walking, but managed to barely squeak by with a long, slow breath and smoldering dark eyes that threatened severe punishment. Most were smart enough to run for cover.
Dorian was evidently the exception. He watched her for several long minutes as four drew closer and decided it was the occasional French that she lapsed into that had people scurrying. He could tell from watching the assistants and wait staff that her temper wasn’t out of ego, but appeared to be frustration and a lot of it with herself.
He noticed his presence attracted a little attention. Some interest from the females. Some from the males who knew without a doubt that Fleur was now off limits. Men had a way of conveying that without speaking. Smart ones, adhered and moved on with a shrug of, okay, you won, good luck.
It was past end of her shift but from the collection of food items being prepared and from her personal standards, he knew she’d never leave a job half done. He guessed the young man talking to her was her evening replacement, holding a large clip board and nodding as she spoke quietly to him. He watched her absently opening the buttons at the side of her tunic, her eyes fin
ally landing on where he stood leaning against the entry way.
Fleur felt the tensions of the day slipping free when she met the blue eyes that had the ability to melt her with the promise and teasing she could see. His suit coat was open and hands were sunk into pockets. She let the tunic slip to her fingers and walked over to stand before him, one hand resting on his at his pocket.
“Long day of orientation?” She asked softly, rising to her toes and kissing him.
Dorian arched an eyebrow. He pulled the hand from the pocket and ran his palm over her head. “My orientation was in English. Why the burst of French?” He laughed when her cheeks flushed with color.
“You…you saw that?”
“Sweetheart, people in the next county heard that,” he teased with a wink, kissing the freckles on her nose.
“Suppliers. I have no tolerance for people who make me promises just to get my business and then…” her palm was up in a wild sweep that he barely missed by jerking his head out of the way. “Sorry. I need to run,” she informed him firmly, taking his hand and leading him to the locker room where she grabbed up her jacket and pack.
“I brought gym clothes. I can work out while you pound feet on the treadmill. I saw Faith hitting the track with Lacie,” he told her as they slipped out the employee entrance and into the underground.
“I know. I sent them notes that I would miss our run tonight,” she shrugged. “Jamaica week is very popular and the food is amazing.”
“I stopped and sampled some earlier for lunch,” he admitted, stopping outside the men’s locker room. “See you on the other side.”
Chapter Nine
A week before Thanksgiving, the previous year
New York City
Liliana brushed one finger over the soft brow of the baby she held against her, the cotton sling keeping her snug, warm and close. Somehow she managed to drag in a long, steadying breath. But it really didn’t help.
WindSwept Narrows: #20 Fleur & Liliana Page 6
